Free Museums
My first breakfast at the pension was very nice. The owners go out of their way to please. They have several kinds of bread as well as numerous pastries. They have homemade stewed apples from their own garden (which is outside the city), a variety of cheeses, hard boiled eggs, muesli, yogurt, and several sorts of meats that I don't eat. They went out of their way to accommodate, as I asked about hot milk with coffee. They made me hot chocolate. They were quite sensitive to my having advised them that I eat no pork.
This morning I spent some time figuring out what to do for the next few days. The hotel people directed me to two circular bus routes that are “like a city tour, but without the explanations.” I think I'll do that tomorrow.
Class today dealt in large measure with listening exercises, and then with vocabulary. These are two areas that are important to me. I still can't understand the other students very well.
Thursdays the state museums are open until 10:00, and are free after 6:00. Of course, I took advantage of that tonight.
On my walk to the museums, I stopped to eat at an Italian restaurant, where they make their own potato gnocchi – which is, of course, what I ordered. The bread that was served was of two types: a very nice thick-crusted bread that you would expect to get at such a restaurant, and a very thin, crisp bread. I asked the waiter about it, and you can see it in a picture when I get around to downloading them. It is Pane Carasau (from Sardinia): they don't make it in the restaurant, but they buy a thin bread; oil is brushed on top and then it is baked/crisped in the oven. While, I guess, it's not unlike pita chips, it's MUCH thinner. I've not had such a thing before.
I'd say that Berlin has one of the largest and most varietal collection of art in the world. In part that's because the German archaeologists brought many of their finds back to Berlin in the last half of the Nineteenth Century. It's partly because many of the high points in art, from Lucas Cranach to Expressionism happened in the German-speaking countries. It's partly because German aristocracy has bought a lot of art through the centuries. It's also partly because modern Germany is rich and can buy art. As far as I know, the museums do not hold any art confiscated by Nazis in the Third Reich, even though much of such art is still unrecovered and/or not repatriated, but not under the aegis of any public museum.
They have built new museums since the Berlin Wall came down. In fact, in the five years since Bela and I visited last, there has been considerable new construction, some of which has been museum buldings. Just in the vicinity of the famous Berlin Philharmonic building in the Tiergarten area, there are the Gemäldegalerie (picture gallery) and the New National Art Gallery, both new.
The Gemäldegalerie holds the paintings from the 14th Century to the18th Century. The collection includes an unbelievable number of famous paintings, including Rembrandt's “Man in the Golden Helmet.” Paintings by Vermeer are rare; perhaps there are 25 in the whole world. There are two in this museum. They have a number of painting of each of the following, among others: Cranach, Hals, Tintoretto, Rubins, Rembrandt, and Gainesborough. Many of these paintings used to be housed in the Dahlem Museum.
In this gallery I noticed that they display the oil paintings differently from other galleries I have visited. There is a glass plate over each oil painting, just as there might be over a watercolor, as part of the framed display. Previously I had understood that oils could not be covered in that fashion, as they need to “breathe.” Obviously, it provides a measure of protection, I suppose, but it also makes it hard to see the picture in some circumstances. When the room is too light, there are too many reflections. To take a photo of the picture is also difficult, as one must hold the camera where reflections are minimized.
Those of you who have frequented museums know how particular museum guards can be. “No flash” or “Please don't touch the sculpture” or “Not so close to the painting” are standard museum guard phrases in all languages. Now imagine a German museum guard. There is an inlaid stripe in the parquet flooring around the perimeter of the display galleries. It's about 2 feet from the wall. I came upon a painting by Pieter Breugels with the details typical of many of his paintings of people being tortured in Hell. It's practically impossible to see the details as far away as a couple of feet, so I was leaning in pretty close. Since my foot was over the line, the guard told me to move back. Since I still wanted to study the details, I tried to lean in, but I could see him hovering in the corner. As soon as my foot touched the stripe, he reminded me to move back.
Next time I'm bringing binoculars.
The New National Gallery is supposed to be where the 20th Century painters are assembled, including the Expressionists. Unfortunately, only a very small part of the collection is displayed. Forty years ago, I had the opportunity to see scores of Expressionist paintings when I was in Berlin, so I asked the museum staff where they were now kept. I was told that most of the collection is in storage and is displayed only rarely.
I really was looking forward to seeing the Berliner Secession, Georg Grosz, Wassily Kandinsky, and so forth.
This fact is especially annoying since both of the museums I saw today had huge empty spaces. I'm not talking about a few empty spaces on the wall. The New National Gallery is a large, square, black glass building that has one large storey above ground and one below ground. It is at least 200 feet by 200 feet (I didn't measure.), and there is NOTHING on the ground floor except the ticket counter and coat room.
I was able to rush through the two museums in the 4 hours before closing time. Tired, I'm going to bed.
1 comment:
we were actually there just 4 years ago (June 2005), so that's even more impressive.
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